


Embrace

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Dancing, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: An exploration of Sherlock teaching John how to waltz for his wedding. Fluff, hurt/comfort, friendship, love. Can be read as friendship or Johnlock. One-Shot.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written anything in a while, I have been insanely busy with my college classes and my job and attempting to maintain a social life so I don’t lose my mind. However, I just finished a major assignment that I put off until the last minute, so I am rewarding myself by writing a cute, sad, soft one-shot about my favorite closeted couple. But I digress. Please leave a review if you like it, those always make me want to write more!

**Disclaimer:** Sherlock, along with its characters, location, etc. are the property of BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not own them, though I definitely wouldn’t mind being on a first name basis with Benedict Cumberbatch.

……….

Embrace

……….

John sighed loudly, slumping in his favorite armchair. Sherlock was stretched out on the sofa, an arm flung over his eyes as he tried to decide on what shape he should fold the napkins into for John’s wedding.

Without moving, Sherlock almost growled, “What is it, John?”

“I don’t know, Sherlock. I’m sick of planning the wedding, but I’m stressed about making it perfect for Mary. I just want to get this over with.” John sighed again. The wedding was going to take place in three weeks, and they had been busy planning it for close to five months.

“I may not know much about emotions, but I’m pretty sure that that’s not the attitude that most people have about their wedding.” Sherlock deadpans.

“I think most people probably do, actually. It’s stressful.” John explains, rubbing his temples.

Sherlock stood up, stepping onto and over the coffee table before plopping down into his armchair. “What exactly are you stressed about?” he asked quietly.

“Everything. At the moment I’m worried about dancing with Mary.” John scrubbed his hand down his face, looking at the floor.

“Why?” Sherlock asked, eyebrows raised. While he could understand the apprehension, having to dance in a room full of people who are staring directly at you, he didn’t think that was the most pressing thing to be worried about.

“It’s not important. Do we have a case?” John brushed off the question, picking at a nonexistent loose thread on the arm of his chair.

“Can I help?” Sherlock asked quietly, not meeting John’s eye.

“I’m not sure how you could help, since what I really need is someone to teach me how to fucking _dance._ ” John sighed again, sitting up and planting his elbows on his knees so he could bury his face in his hands.

“You can’t dance?” Sherlock asked, slightly amused.

“Do I look like the kind of person who’s good at dancing?” John asked, finally looking up at Sherlock. He looked back down at his hands. “I don’t know what to do.” He ran his hand over his hair.

“Well, luckily for you, I _am_ the kind of person who knows how to dance.” Sherlock paused, then added quietly, “I can teach you.”

John looked back up at Sherlock, saying nothing. Sherlock squirmed in his chair. He was about to take it back when John said “You would do that?”

Sherlock’s eyebrows scrunched briefly. “Of course, John.” He said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my best friend.” He added quietly.

John stared at him in silence for a few more minutes before he said “Okay, Sherlock. Teach me how to dance.”

Internally, Sherlock was screaming at himself. Of course, obviously, he would do anything for John. He _had_ done anything for John. But, he also loved John, more than he loved anybody, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle being that close to his best friend, holding him in his arms…

Sherlock stood and slowly moved over to the speaker sitting near his desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He scrolled through his phone for a good song (he didn’t want to spoil the surprise of the song he was writing for the actual dance) before plugging the aux cord in and hitting play. He stood awkwardly in the center of the room as John stood from his chair and moved in front of him.

“Are you sure, Sherlock?” John asked quietly, standing about three feet away from the detective, who was still fighting with himself.

Sherlock managed to force a meager “Of course” past his lips, and then John was moving toward him, and they were chest-to-chest, and they were holding hands, and John’s hand was on his waist…

His face impassive, Sherlock lightly placed his free hand on John’s back, pulling his friend closer so their chests were touching. He breathed in deeply, and then sighed quietly. He started moving slowly, pulling John along with him.

He did some basic steps at first, then stepped away to replay the song and taught them to John again, until John was pulling him along instead of the other way around. There was an embarrassing moment, during their third run-through, where Mrs. Hudson came into the apartment to clean and caught them dancing. She excused herself before the boys could explain, giggling breathlessly.

Sherlock replayed the song again, meaning to show John some fancier steps so he could impress Mary. As he pulled John along with him, he got hit with a sudden rush of affection for the man he was holding against his chest, and he had to use all of his willpower not to hug him tightly and never let go. John was getting married in a few weeks, he would not let himself ruin that for John. He had already destroyed enough of the doctor’s life.

The song ended, and Sherlock moved to step away from John to replay the song again, but was stopped by John tightening his grip on his waist and hand. Sherlock stopped and turned back around, looking down at John, who was looking at the floor.

In a moment of utter bewilderment for Sherlock, John leaned forward and rested his head on the detective’s shoulder, their hands still loosely clasped together. Sherlock moved the hand that was on John’s back, wrapping his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.

“What is it, John?” Sherlock asked, his voice low. He attempted to banish all emotion from his voice, but he failed completely.

“Thank you, Sherlock.” John whispered. And then, even quieter, he added, “I missed you.”

Sherlock tightened his grip on his friend, bending his head to look at the floor. “I missed you too. I’m so sorry.” He muttered.

“I know you are, and I forgive you. I do. But it’s hard to get past all of the hurt and pain that I felt while you were gone.” John explained quietly. He let go of Sherlock’s hand and wrapped both arms tightly around the taller man’s waist.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Sherlock repeated, unsure of what to say. He felt his heart swelling with affection for his best friend, and he had to stop himself from crushing John even more tightly to his chest. “I can never forgive myself for what I did to you.” He muttered.

“Luckily, I have enough forgiveness for the both of us.” John answered. “You’re the most important person in my life, Sherlock. I love Mary, but not as much as I love you.” His face is buried in Sherlock’s chest, but he isn’t shaking or crying.

Sherlock sighs, unsure how to respond. “I… I love you too, John. I’m sorry that I caused you so much pain, and I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

There was a long pause. “You don’t have to do that, Sherlock. I’ve already forgiven you.” John whispered, his voice muffled by the fabric of Sherlock’s designer shirt.

Sherlock held John tighter. “I think… I’m going to do it anyway.”

They stood there, embracing, for what could have been four hours or four minutes. After a while, John pulled back and patted Sherlock on the shoulder, looking at the floor and sniffing. He went to move away, but was stopped by a firm grip on his hand.

“I wanted to teach you more steps. I want you to impressed Mary.” Sherlock said. There was a sadness in his heart, because he knew that he would probably never be able to dance with John, or be this close with John, ever again.

John moved back against Sherlock, who reached over to turn the music back on. And then they danced until their feet hurt, John easily learning everything that Sherlock taught him. Sherlock smiled sadly when John sank back into his chair, exhausted, a few hours after they had started.

And then John left to go home to Mary, his loving fiancée, and Sherlock was left sitting alone in his chair, nursing a glass of scotch, realizing that John was his reason for living. He would never hurt him again.


End file.
